Knight Of The Sun
by Lamina Ashen
Summary: Jaune Arc had failed in his dream to become a huntsman countless times, but a chance encounter sets him on a path meant for the old and the weary. His dream at stake, there is nothing left but going forward, slowly sinking into a world unlike anything he thought possible, all while learning just what his dream means.
1. The Fool

Wind and rain, lightning and thunder, waves crashing upon the docks, making anchored ships move with ease. The whole world seemed to be angry today, angry and wrathful, all for no particular reason.

The concrete jungle of man wouldn't topple so easily against anything the world brought however.

Usually, this would be a day when Jaune Arc would stay in his room, listening to music, and day dreaming about battles between monsters and men. But today wasn't an usual day.

Today, Jaune Arc had tried to reach the stars, and failed.

It had started splendidly, and only went downwards from there. He'd woken up after months of planning, feeling ready to take on the world, only to find out he wasn't quite that ready, and that things didn't work out that well.

When he'd heard a shadier classmate of his knew some people in Vale, a wild idea had struck him. It had taken months of working odd jobs to get enough money, but he'd managed, and finally spoken with his classmate, and thus, met Rory. Rory was a forger, whose name was also likely not Rory. He was an honest man regarding his work, not many who weren't managed to make a living from this from what he understood. Aparently someone's word in the underground meant something.

So Jaune had payed full money, which in hindsight had been a bad choice since he could have easily been swindeled, but nonetheless that had worked out. His transcripts were in the making, almost ready, and Rory had messaged him to swing by for the final details.

He'd arrived in Vale just in time to receive a message from Rory telling him to delete their messages and calls from his phone.

Jaune had done so with frightening speed, and then as his father would kindly put it, _hauled ass_ to Rory's home. He'd reached the street just in time to see a Vale police car with one forger strapped inside.

Thus, the current predicament. Run home with his tail between his legs after months of planning to leave, and forever quit chasing his dream.

A satisfying crunch erupted from his hand, along with a painful sensation that made him curse, as his fist struck the pavement. It didn't help.

Yet again, in hindsight, a bad choice. Life wasn't a movie. At least not his.

Why could he only see that his choices were bad, risky, and shoddy only after he went through with them? Was this his gift? To forever fail?

Exhaling softly, he rose from his crouched position, half slumped against a wall, craddling his hand, because he couldn't time travel, and he could only go home from here.

But before that, he wanted to see the sea again. It wasn't often that he had seen it, considering his home town wasn't anywhere near the sea. He had a pretty large lake next to his home, enough for him to learn how to swim, but that was about it really. So when he'd arrived in the Docks, simply wandering without any real purpose after his failure, the sound of the sea had beckoned him sweetly.

He'd paced around the docks, listening to the sound of the stormy sea, without any real care for wind and rain. He was going to catch a cold anyways, why bother? The docks were fairly empty, nearly no ships around, and neither people, so he was fairly fearless.

Walking slowly to the edge of the docks, he stared at the sea. Angry, wrathful, but all in all pointless. No matter how harsh the wind blew, and how high the waves rose, the city wouldn't fall. All the chaos it made was akin to a child, throwing a tantrum.

"It's a lot deeper than it looks." Jaune jumped like a grasshopper.

A quiet, deep, _deranged_ laugh followed his reaction, as Jaune turned with wide eyes and body posed to run away from the source.

A few meters in front of him, floating over the sea was a small wooden boat tied to a post. Inside was a man who seemed fairly busy and uncaring of his presence, that were it not for his words Jaune would have considered the man hadn't even noticed his presence. He wore a large black trench coat from the looks of it, much thicker than any Jaune had seen in the shops, with a round straw hat on his head covering long gray hair.

He couldn't get a good measure on the man, but he seemed massive, not because of his height or shoulder broadness, but because of his presence. The man exuded a strange feeling in the air around him, even in the storm, an aura of...power. Similar to what his father exuded when he wished to.

Jaune's eyes widened as far as they could. A huntsman was talking to him.

"It's a lot deeper than it looks." This time, the man turned, repeating the same words while regarding him with eyes black as coal. The simple gesture, made Jaune shiver. And even as he slowly inched backwards, the man opened his mouth again.

"I never realized how deep it was until it crashed on my head. You think it's angry, don't you? Angry, but hopeless?" Black eyes danced on his frame with an unhinged glint, that Jaune simply wanted to run, but the voice compelled him to stay. "This is the sea telling us to fuck off, because we're annoying. If she was really angry, there wouldn't be a Vale anymore laddie." The serios face broke into a grin, and Jaune found himself stumbling over words.

"Y-Yea, I never t-thought of it that way." Smile and run Jaune, smile and run.

"Most don't. Now, _you_ do." The grin went back to being a smile, and Jaune's danger sense had decided the shit he was in was one step too deep and intervened.

As he turned to run however, the smiling man uttered a single word, and Jaune froze.

" _Don't."_ Jaune stood still for three seconds. Three whole seconds, before the man spoke again.

"You won't be able to run from me. So stay."

And Jaune stayed. He even turned around, and sat down on the edge of the docks, wind and rain, thunder and waves left forgotten in face of such danger.

The man still looked at him, and now Jaune looked back closer, studying for a mere second the sharp features and the wide mouth of the man before retreating his gaze to the waves washing nearly at his feet.

"You're pretty bright for a kid. Most wouldn't have stayed. In truth I wouldn't have come after you." The man admitted, the smile returning to his face. Jaune felt like hitting himself. Of course the man wasn't going to come after him, he was in the Vale Docks! This wasn't a shady backstreet of the city, there were likely a bunch of cameras around.

"Why?" The sharp question made him leave his train of thought abandoned, and turn to the man, a questioning, if fearful look in his eyes.

"Why what?" The first words spoken fully and truly since Jaune had started this weird, one-sided dialogue with the man.

The man simply sighed, while gazing at the sea.

"What brought you here?"

Jaune stared at the man. What brought him here huh?

It was wrong to tell a huntsman of doing an illegal thing, even though it was simply an attempt at doing so, and this man certainly didn't look like the right man to pour his troubles to. The weather didn't help one bit either, and neither did his aching hand.

He still cracked, and poured everything out. Stumbling at first, gaining courage only when the man didn't interject, and spilling every single bit of his worries.

By the time he had finished, the sun had reached the middle of the sky, and the storm had settled, even though there were still dark clouds above. Jaune couldn't find it in him to care.

Silence had greeted the end of his tale, the man standing still enough and quiet enough, that anyone could assume he had frozen right there and then. No wonder he was comtemplating the depths of Jaune's stupidity. Sighing, Jaune placed his head between his palms.

A sigh from the man broke the spell that kept him frozen, and suddenly, his mouth opened.

"A huntsman...it isn't easy. But you tried everything to make it work, even though you're bad at everything, you still tried, and you'll go on to try again. That's admirable in a man. All it will do however, is make your folk cry for you when you bite it. Nothing else. There's no honor in death lad, go home, and stay there."

The man simply turned around, and took out from a pile of things, a long, wide, but thin blade, black from hilt to tip.

"I might die..." His mouth opened before Jaune could even think of closing it, and getting away from the strange man. It was as if his words were an insult, the truth, but an insult.

"I might die, and it's foolish enough. Incredibly so. But this is what I want to be. It's _my dream_ regardless of what you say, and I'll chase it like the idiot I am!" His voice was a whisper, picking strength only once he reached the end, but nonetheless carried over, for the old man turned to look at him.

"Will you give it all up? People who love you, a warm home, and a full life ahead...Will you toss that away for one stupid dream?" The narrowed eyes of the man stared into him, and the presence from earlier slammed into him, but Jaune refused to budge an inch.

"It's my dream." He replied simply, amazed at his own response. He'd do all of that for his dream, to come home a huntsman. No. Not to come home a huntsman, simply to be a huntsman.

The glare from the man held for a few more seconds, a little bit more, before the corners of his mouth curled upwards. The angry gaze shattered, and replaced it, was a monstrous grin, and unhinged eyes, and now Jaune could understand. The man also had a dream.

"Good! Wonderful! Perfectly said laddie!" The man hollered, before pulling on the rope attached to the dock pole, and reaching the docks. Placing one hand on the concrete, he hoisted himself up in one movement, nearly slamming into Jaune, outstretching a hand and pulling his into a handshake with ease. Now Jaune could see the man who wasn't so tall anymore, if anything they were the same size.

"You're a foolish one aren't you? You are! So tell me, will you be foolish enough to board that ship and come with me? To see that dream of yours come true!?" The unhinged glint in his eyes and the excited tone spoke to Jaune, and for once the blonde understood his eyes carried much the same look, only dimmer. An impossible dream, for which he was willing to die.

Wasn't that insane in more ways than one?

The man exploded into laughter, and Jaune did much the same.

Was he foolish enough to step onto the boat on mere faith? On the words of a likely mad man?

He was, wasn't he? His laughter turned slightly shaky, but the man seemed to somehow sense this, and bringing his throes of laughter to a halt, pulled out from somewhere within his coat a stack of papers.

With the same smile, he handed them to Jaune, who could only look with wide eyes and trembling hands.

Skimming the sack of papers his eyes only widened further. Missions, upon missions, upon mission, all completed, signed and more, true documents which he could recognize now after months of getting his own forgery done, all attesting to the man's career. He could only stare in wonder at the miracle in his hands.

"What do you say? Still foolish enough?" Dark eyes danced, regarding him with curiosity, making Jaune swallow thickly. This was it. Nobody needed to say anything for him to know this was his last chance to back out.

"It'll be rough. Your chances of surviving are lower than a digit. I'm going on a mission, where none but the strongest and the oldest huntsman are coming. You are nothing but a speck compared to them. But if you come back...There will be no man, living or dead, who may contest your claim."

Thin lips pulled back, as the magical words Jaune waited years to hear were blessed with a voice.

"You will be a huntsman."

Words failed Jaune. So true to his Arc name, Jaune chose to act.

Stuffing the papers into the hands of the man, who watched him with wide eyes, he walked briskly to the edge of the docks, before jumping for all he was worth.

He landed on the boat, rocking it strongly, the waves already present nearly throwing him off, but his legs held firm, and his hands even more so.

He was standing. And Jaune felt like he was truly standing for the first time in his life.

Laughter erupted from behind him, and as he turned around the man was already there, the boat having not moved an inch from his arrival.

A hearty clap on the back sent Jaune sprawling into the water.

Coming up for air desperately, Jaune opened his eyes to see the man roaring towards him in laughter.

"Swim laddie! You're gonna need to know how, and you're gonna need to know right about now!" Roaring and laughing, the strange man untied the boat, and sat down while picking up a paddle.

Spitting sea water, after a day of running himself ragged, Jaune smiled. This was a bad decision, no questions needed to be answered for that to be clear. But he'd chase his dream, regardless. He didn't know where he was going, or what was going to happen, but at the very least he had the whole world ahead and wasn't that satisfying?

What did his grandpa use to say? It's not the destination that matters, it's the journey?

All he needed to do now, was swim. Swim, and ask one more thing actually.

Through saltwater and desperate swimming, hacking and spitting, Jaune yelled as loud as he could.

"What's your name!?"

The man rose from his crouched position, and answered.

"Dovahk Krogo" The strange name akin to the horselords of old seemingly rang within Jaune, and all he could do, was roar out his own name from within the sea.

"I AM JAUNE ARC!"


	2. The World

Swimming was harder than Jaune remembered.

Incredibly harder.

Sure, the sea water made things easier, but the waves made it so much harder it couldn't even compare. It hadn't even been a measly five minutes before his arms started feeling limp, but he'd dragged on until the huntsman had reached a hand, and pulled him by the scruff of his clothes and onto the ship.

Now he ached all over, and he was shivering. He was so getting a cold.

"Tired already huh? Didn't take your training seriously now did ya, laddie? Oh, wait, _what_ training?"

The old timer had started mocking him since the moment he'd saw him struggling, but Jaune could acknowledge that his taunts had pushed him to stay in the water and struggle a bit more, a bit harder.

He was good. He would have made a great teacher.

Jaune however, was still soaked, and still glaring at him.

And just now, he'd realized the state in which he'd left for the journey. A grey hoodie, light blue jeans, and sneakers. Completely unprepared was the better word honestly.

He didn't even have a weapon.

"Not up for work, is it?" Turning his head up, he found black eyes staring into his own. Krogo had probably seen him staring at his clothes, and drawn the right conclusion.

Jaune sighed before replying.

"Not even close..." It was the truth. He'd have liked some armor, a sword, anything! Not what he had.

"Easily solved. You'll have to wait for the clothes however."Jaune's eyes widened at the reply, as the man rose from his crouched position on the small wooden boat, and turned around to rummage in a rather large sack tied around the boat. Jaune waited with bated breath.

Reaching inside, Krogo moved his arm a few times, rustling through the sack, before reaching something he seemed to like and coming to a stop.

Gripping the item solidly, he tugged once, twice, and a third time, pulling the object out with ease.

It was a sword, but not any kind of sword. Jaune had done his research on swords, because why not, and because swords were cool. What the old timer had pulled out, was a grey greatsword, close to a true two-hander, and incredibly thick. There was enough material there to forge at least two regular swords of the same size!

Flourishing the blade around with the ease Jaune would have flourishing a broom, Dovahk turned the blade, gripping it by the tip and moving the handle to his face, as if handing a small kitchen knife. Swallowing hard, Jaune gripped the handle with both hands, feeling it's weight, and preparing himself to hold it.

And as the huntsman let go, Jaune realized that all his preparation was not nearly enough.

Dovahk had been kind enough to catch the blade, as Jaune fumbled to his feet, trying to hoist the blade.

The old timer laughed, and Jaune glared. Of course he wouldn't be able to hold it, the blade was nearly as heavy as him!

While the old timer laughed, Jaune noticed two things.

Firstly, the storm had calmed completely. Grey clouds still covered the sun, but no rain was coming, and no wind was blowing.

And secondly, a thick fog was starting to be noticeable ahead, and they were going right towards it.

Before he could panic however, the old timer stopped his laughing and gripped his shoulder, taking back the blade and propping it against the boat.

"Alright laddie, I think it's time. You've made it clear that you have an absurd dream, and you've got no idea what it means, but do you know of the first thing that a huntsman must posses?"

The dark eyes stared into him, and Jaune had no idea what to answer.

"A blade?" He wondered out-loud, but Dovahk scoffed.

"You really have no idea, do you?" The tone wasn't challenging, not even close, just...he couldn't find the right words to explain it.

"I don't." Honesty was best, right? At least that was something his mother would say.

The huntsman shook his head, and looked at him in a strange way. Extending his other hand, he gripped Jaune's other shoulder, and closed his eyes. His mouth opened, and suddenly Jaune started feeling...different. As if he could see the stars in the night-sky, in full noon with a cloud covered sky.

"For it is in passing that we come to understand our mortality. Through this, we become the instrument of our will to achieve our deepest desires. Passed on like a torch through the ages, bound by death and picked up by others, I release your soul, and by my shoulder, protect thee."

Jaune, in that moment, felt as if an emptiness in his soul had been filled, a gap that he had never been aware of suddenly covered.

Dovahk took a step back, and smiled.

"There may be hope for you yet, boy."

As Jaune came off the high, he smiled fully. It was as if he was unstoppable!

"W-what did you do!?" He felt amazing! The old man simply smiled.

"That, was me giving you access to your aura. The manifestation of your soul, aura protects you and helps you achieve feats that you never thought possible. You still need to train your body, but this will help."

Jaune's mouth mimicked the expression of a fish out of water, while Dovahk simply laughed.

"You're wondering why this isn't unlocked to everyone, right? Well, it's because aura attracts grimm, and without proper training even with aura, a beowulf has all the chances it needs to kill you. If the entire population had aura, the kingdoms would have fallen a long time ago."

Black eyes regarded him with incredible power, and Jaune felt that for all his newfound power, there would not be a thing in the world that he could do to beat Dovahk.

"Remember laddie...No one knows the ratios, the numbers, the _fucking_ statistics, but...there are a literal shitload more grimm than there will ever be humans." Eyes black as death stared with a seriousness previously unknown possible on the man's face by Jaune, so each and every word was taken to heart, and meant to last forever.

"U-understood!" Because what else could he say?

"Good. Now then, I guess it's time to answer your damn questions!" Suddenly, a grin erupted on Dovahk's face, as soon as he finished speaking he pocketed his coat and pulled out a scroll that looked like it had seen better days.

Sitting back down onto the beam of the boat, he stared expectedly at Dovahk.

"This, laddie, is the message, the declaration, that set the highest peak of the world on fire! This is the crusade of humanity." The words were spoken in a whisper, but they had a certain weight that seemed to push on Jaune's shoulders. What could this crusade be?

Clearing his throat, the huntsman started reading.

"In light of our advancements, of our unity, and of our new-found strength as a species, I, General Ironwood of Atlas, along with headmaster Lionheart of Mistral, headmaster Theodore of Vacuo, and headmaster Ozpin of Vale, have decided to once again take up the greatest quest of mankind."

"The world is not as small as you think. We live on an island of ignorance, safe-guarded by an entity beyond comprehension, in a world of bloody evolution. Remnant, the four continents that make up our world, are merely thirty percent of the surface of the planet. A wall of fog stands between our seas and the rest of the world. The closest thing to a god guards it."

"And in the world beyond ours, lie Grimm after Grimm, unhunted, grown to monstrous proportions and strength. But beyond the fog can also be found artifact after artifact, the left-overs of creation, and the answers we desperately seek. Through the ages, humanity's undying tenacity showed itself, to no avail. In recorded history, not a single man has tried to enter the "Other" in the last 200 years, and in the entirety of recorded history only one man made it on the other side, and returned to tell the tale."

"Our greatest huntsmen, our greatest weapons, our greatest ships, everything we have for the answers we seek, to find a way to end the Grimm. And so we pass the torch of history to those we summon. The world is yours, and yours alone to conquer. Good luck!"

The spell that Jaune had found himself in broke. He let out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding, and stared at Dovakh.

What the fuck!? How was all of this kept secret?! Just how do you hide two thirds of the world?!

His face spelled out all his question, and Dovakh simply smiled.

"It's the truth. And we will face it." The short, heavy answer was enough.

And now, as the small boat entered the fog, Jaune understood just what he signed in for.

He was fucked. But he was going to do it either way, because right now? He couldn't back out. He wasn't ready. But this was the only path for him.

Jaune didn't have time to think however, as the boat rocked furiosly, leaving him grasping the beam and holding for dear life. Wasn't the storm over?

Dovakh simply stood up, and looked into the fog.

And as Jaune's gaze turned to look the same way, he froze. In the fog, the outline of the massive head of a Leviathan showed up. The head shaped like that of a crocodile, the long amphibious arms, heavily clawed, the long muscular tail, the white plates of armor and red markings on the massive body were enough to make his teeth chatter.

The huntsman pulled his blade out, a long, thin, and wide blade. What he was going to do with it to that abomination, Jaune didn't know. Nonetheless, he stood on both feet in the boat, his own blade now held at the ready.

And then a horn sounded. It took a second to figure out that the sound didn't come from the Grimm, and another second to figure out that the sound was a ship horn, before the fog cleared as an absolutely massive projectile slammed into the head of the Grimm.

The boom that resounded on the open sea made Jaune crash back onto the ship, and Dovakh laugh.

The Grimm shuddered as a second projectile smashed it's head open. The thing turned, trying to lunge at whatever was shooting without having the strength to do so, before a third, and final boom erupted, the explosive shell the size of their boat blowing the head and upper torso to bits.

He could hear cheering through the fog, and before he knew it, a shadow covered their ship as the last of the fog blew over.

Frostbite. Broadly emblazoned on the side of the clearly Atlas-made gun-ship, as tall and long as the Leviathan itself, the most distinct feature that made it more than a ship, and a gun-ship, in Jaune's head was the massive weapon on the top of the ship, the cannon that fired what killed the Grimm.

Holy shit. They weren't kidding.


End file.
